The More You Ignore Me
by mtranc3
Summary: Draco decides to woo Harry, Slytherin style.


**Title:** The more you ignore me**  
Author:** mtranc3  
**Raing:** PG  
**Categories:** Romance, Humour, Fluff  
**Summary:** Draco decides to woo Harry, Slytherin style.  
**Author's Notes:** The title, as well as the lyrics in the beginning and the end, are from a Morrissey song called 'The more you ignore me', which was the inspiration for this fic. The story has some **graphics **that couldn't be diplayed here, so if you'd like to see them you can read it at my LiveJournal, the link is on my profile.  
**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, no profit is being made.

_I've made up your mind__  
__The more you ignore me__  
__The closer I get__  
__You're wasting your time._

Harry knew it was going to be one of those days the moment he saw Malfoy lurking outside the Gryffindor common room. He felt Ron tensing beside him.

"What are you doing here Malfoy?"

"I am passing by obviously."

"You're passing by the Gryffindor Tower?"

"I bet you he was trying to find out our password, the slimy git…" Ron gave Malfoy a disgusted look as if he were a slug.

"If I _was_ going to do that, Weasley you genius, I'd make sure I wouldn't be seen by others now wouldn't I?"

"What _were_ you doing then?" Harry said, folding his arms.

"Mind your own business Potter."

"Sod off Malfoy, come on Ron, he's just picking for a fight."

"'Cause he doesn't know what's best for him."

"What was that Weasley?"

"You heard me."

"Turn around and say it again if you dare, Weasley you coward, always hiding behind Potter!"

"That does it!" Ron turned, tucking his robe sleeves ready to launch at Malfoy. Harry pulled him back, and gave Malfoy a dark look.

"He's not worth it Ron, come on lets go, we'll be late for Charms."

"Do as mommy tells you Weaselbee." Malfoy said in a singsong, mocking voice.

"You...!" Ron tried to break from Harry's grasp, but Harry held him back; he was getting really tired of the same scene happening over and over again.

"You're a twat Malfoy. Come on Ron, he's doing it to piss you off."

Ron, still red as a turnip, turned abruptly and walked down the hall. Harry was about to do the same when he noticed that Malfoy was still leaning on the wall as comfortably as ever.

"What do you want Malfoy? Too bored to hang around Slytherins? Do us all a favor and go bother someone who cares."

And with that Harry took after Ron, leaving Malfoy with a half-formed word on his lips, looking really confused. Draco hated it when he couldn't have the last word.

...

Draco knew it was going to be one of those nights, when sleep eluded him despite the long and tiring day. Going mentally through the whole day, Draco tracked the reason for the irritating feeling in his stomach, at the incident in the Gryffindor tower a few hours back.

_Go and bother someone who car_es.

Even though Potter had said that hundreds of times before, Draco knew he was getting on his nerves, taking a twisted sort of satisfaction from bringing the other boy to a furious state. But something in his voice that evening had a dismissive tone, as if he wasn't getting to him at all. Insulting the Weasel always made Harry incredulously angry, so he couldn't understand why it hadn't worked this time.

_Right, it's his parents next time, this is an old classic_.

Draco couldn't help feeling a little petty at the thought of insulting Potter's parents - the one topic he knew Potter was absolutely sensitive about - just to see, well, if he could provoke the same old fury in him. He wondered why he suddenly felt bad about it. He had done it numerous times before. Even so, desperate times called for appropriate measures.

Draco breathed deeply, freed from the disturbing feeling and turned around his pillow ready to drift to sleep, when he realized the light had changed and that dawn was nearing. Was it really that long he was contemplating how to get back on Harry Potter? He didn't want to admit that he had spend many nights like this scheming and planning, and only when Harry's distorted from anger face would come into his mind, would he finally go to sleep. He also didn't want to admit that he was getting a bit old for this rivalry. His father had pointed out many times that his near-obsession grudge with Harry Potter was not suitable for the new, all-virtuous Malfoy image. Draco however couldn't just let it go, after all hatred was forever.

He couldn't believe how a person as stupid as Harry Potter, stupid enough to reject his friendship, stupid enough to laugh at his name, stupid enough to hung around a Mudblood and a giant, stupid enough to believe an old fool like Dumbledore, could be so special. He hated him for that with a passion he never knew he had. He had always thought of going to Hogwarts as a kind of triumph, the Slytherins would admire him and the rest of the school would either respect him, or fear him. He would be the best in Quidditch, everyone would be talking about him, pointing him at corridors. He couldn't understand why the reason a boy with the humblest, most humiliating background, got to be a hero, was just a stupid scar.

Stupid Harry Potter, with his stupid scar, keeping him awake.

...

It was during Herbology one day, when the she-weasel had interrupted the class to deliver a message to professor Sprout and then had smiled at Harry on her way out, and the specky git had winked at her, that Draco realized the sharp drilling pain on his stomach was jealousy. He spent the rest of the day brooding in the dark Slytherin common room, his posture screaming _'Get near me, and die'_, trying to purge himself of this disturbing new feeling.

...

_That's it, I'm going nutters_, Draco thought one evening in the library, when Harry had tripped on the leg of a chair, throwing all his books down and earning a reprimand from Pince, and the words 'idiotic cute Gryffindor' had flashed in his mind. He thought he should look into the Malfoy family books back at home for any cases of serious mental illness in the family history.

...

It became even worse during the following days, and he considered going to the hospital wing to find out whether he was poisoned, or something. But deep down he knew, and that terrified him even more. It also filled him with an odd sort of glee, the 'I have a secret which is horrible, and sort of, maybe, kind of good at the same time, and it's _mine_' kind of glee.

Draco was not a particularly honest person, least of all with himself. But when he admitted, albeit with excruciating pain, that he couldn't summon the same old hate for the boy-who-was-the-bane-of-his-existence, he threw himself wholeheartedly to this new feeling, whatever it was, trying to explore it to the end. Draco never did anything by half measures.

...

"Can I have a word?" Draco raised his eyebrow and with a shrug to Blaise's inquiring look, he followed Potter out the Great Hall.

"What are you playing at Malfoy?"

"Have you finally gone round the bent Potter? Here I am minding my own business -"

"I meant _these_ two! Your thugs have been following me all morning!" Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, and then at Malfoy. He smiled;

"Ah, that's what's all about... no need for thanks Potter." He polished his nails on his cloak, examining the result.

Harry gave him a weird look. "Excuse me? Thanks? What are you talking about?"

"They were following you on my bidding; a weasel and a Mudblood are a pathetic excuse for bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle here on the other hand, are excellent -"

"Hermione and Ron are my _friends, _and who said I needed a bodyguard? And for that matter, why would _you_ care about my well-being? I thought my humiliating downfall was your purpose in life."

"How little you know, Potty. I merely want to keep you healthy until I execute my plans for your humiliating downfall, and it would seem that you have an affinity for" he waved his hand up and down Harry's form "dangerous situations". Harry looked at his hands, he had taken an antidote after the Doxy incident, but the bites in his hands remained.

"Seriously Malfoy, I think you really are losing your marbles." Harry said with astonishment. "Keep them out of my way, for _their_ sake" he added before turning to go. Malfoy started shouting how 'ungrateful people are these days, when even honest help isn't appreciated', and Harry thought the world didn't make much sense anymore.

...

On Monday morning, during breakfast Harry received an odd looking note. He petted Hedwig, and let her nibble at his fingers as he opened it:

_Roses are red__  
__Violets are blue__  
__I may be going crazy__  
__because I think I like you_

_(tell anyone and I'll kill you)_

He promptly folded it back. Ron and Hermione were thankfully engaged in their usual morning banter, and hadn't seemed to notice. He wrote something on the back, and stood up, mumbling something about the Owlery.

Draco smirked as he watched Potter leave the Great Hall. In his book that was a good reaction. the git hadn't spontaneously combusted, the Gryffindors weren't laughing at him, and not a single hex in the air.

A brown owl swooped down on him after a while, carrying a note;

_I think you should go to Madame Pomfrey. Tell her that Muggles call it 'schizophrenia'._

Malfoy read the note and smiled. Yes, definitely a good reaction.

...

_Flowers - too girly__  
__Candy - too philistine__  
__Crabbe and Goyle hit him on the head with a bludger on the next Quidditch game, and I and save him from the fall, becoming the hero for ONCE, and then at the hospital wing... - too mushy__  
__Love potion - (a last measure?)_

"What's that Draco?"

Pansy tried to grab the paper out of his hands, but Draco was too quick for her and shoved it in his pocket.

"None of your business Parkinson. Sod off, I have things to do."

Pansy hmphed indignantly and went over to Blaise and Theodore, who were eyeing him curiously for a while now.

_The Slytherin house_. _Constant vigilance... _Draco thought, and shuddered remembering Mad-Eye Moody. Then a thought struck him;

_Buy him a pet - a ferret? Maybe he'll get the point..._

...

"Gin! What happened?"

Ginny sat down next to her brother, drenching him in water.

"Oi, watch it!"

"Here..." Hermione waved her wand "_Aqua adficio!_"

"Thanks. If I find out who did this... One minute I'm walking down the hall, and the next a flood is coming down on me!"

"It was probably Peeves, I heard the other day he wrecked the -" but Harry stopped mid-sentence, his eye catching one blonde laughing hysterically over at the Slytherin table.

"That bastard!"

"What's the matter mate?"

"Be right back" Ron put his sausage down and watched as Harry stomped towards the Slytherin table.

"I think his defending Ginny's honour." Hermione said smiling a little behind her book.

Draco's antics ceased when he saw Harry coming over. _So the scarhead figured it out._

"What's your problem Malfoy?"

The other Slytherins looked up at him with disdain.

"Leave Ginny alone. What did she ever do to you?"

"Aw look, Potty came to defend his _girlfriend. _She's a Gryfindork Potter, I don't need excuses" he said coolly, although his insides burned at Potter's protectiveness of the she-weasel.

"She's not my - This is none of your business. She's my _friend _and if you mess with her you'll answer to me."

Draco scrunched his nose "Am I supposed to cower in fear now?"

"It's what you do best Malfoy" and with that, Harry turned and left, Malfoy gaping after him. How ever did he end up losing this one? It was time for a sneak attack...

...

"How did you...? Get out!" Harry pointed at the door, but Malfoy seemed not to have heard him at all.

"Right, if you don't leave this instant, I'm going to call every single Gryffindor who's in the tower and leave you at their mercy."

"You wouldn't. Besides, it's not as if I was here on a _heinous_ mission..."

"How do I know that? And how did you get in here?"

"The fat woman on the portrait couldn't resist my charm..." Harry raised an eyebrow, and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Fine, I had Crabbe and Goyle terrorize Longbottom. I just wanted to talk to you alone for once."

"You do know Ron and the others will be here in a minute."

That made Malfoy look a bit less unaffected and a bit more apprehensive.

"We'll pull the curtains?"

"Out Malfoy. Now."

"Why won't you take me seriously?"

"Because, Malfoy, we've been at each other's throats ever since we first met..."

"No we didn't. I didn't hate you back at Madame Malkin's..."

"Well, _I_ did. You insulted Hagrid who was my first friend and -"

"Would you stop with the whining Potter? That's what I do! I was raised to look down on people, can you get it through your thick head that I might be conditioned to it?"

"That doesn't excuse you, because you still do it intentionally. Nothing's going to change my opinion of you Malfoy, insane or not. Now get out of my bloody bed!" He pushed him hard and Draco fell on the floor.

He stood up cradling his arm "I'll refuse the Dark Mark."

Harry was not expecting that. He took a deep breath, and looked up at the other boy.

"Even if, look, even if what you say is true about you wanting to be friends and all that, you shouldn't do that because of me, but because you really believe that Voldemort is evil, and if you did, you'd stop calling Hermione a Mudblood and -"

Draco raised his hand to cut him off. He seemed oddly resigned. Even his hair was falling out of place.

"First, Potter, I never said I wanted to be friends. I said I liked you. Even you are not oblivious to what that means, unless you mentioned 'friends' on purpose. Secondly, I don't want to get the Mark, because I wasn't raised to be a servant. That doesn't automatically bring me to you and Dumbledore's side, does it?"

Harry sat back down on the bed. It felt awkward that Malfoy was standing, but he wasn't prepared to invite him to have a seat, what with his recent weird behaviour and all. "Voldemort doesn't understand neutrals. If you refuse to serve him, then you are his enemy. Do what you want Malfoy, I don't really care. But whatever you do, at least make sure it's for the right reasons."

Draco lifted his arms as if he was going to touch Harry's head, but he retracted mid-way, regretting it. He left without another word.

Harry actually felt sorry for the git.

...

"Harry?"

"Huh?" Harry opened his eyes to find Hermione peering at him over the back of the armchair.

"You fell asleep."

He sat upright, adjusting his glasses which had glided to his nose.

"Yeah I guess..."

"All right Harry?" Ron asked as he came in and sat on the floor.

"Um, yeah, it was just a headache; I think I needed to sleep or something."

Hermione sat on the arm of Harry's chair and looked down on him, an inquiring look on her face; "Are you sure you're all right? Did something happen Harry?"

"It's... It's Malfoy -" _the git is driving me crazy _"he's acting strange..."

"What's else is new?" Ron joked. Hermione shot him an austere look.

"In what way Harry?"

_In a 'he asked me to go with him on the next Hogsmeade weekend' way. _"I don't know, just strange."

"It's probably his father," Hermione said with her all-knowing look. "he's probably feeding him all these ideas about Purebloods and Death Eaters, no wonder he's so nasty. In a way I feel sorry for him."

A small pang of guilt in Harry's stomach reminded him of their conversation in the Gryffindor dorm a few days ago. Harry tried to squash it down.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice broke off his trail of thought, and he pretended to still look very sleepy.

"Sorry… I guess I'm still sleepy."

Ron jerked his head upwards, he was drawing absent figures on the carpet with his fingers.

"Come on mate a game of exploding snap will wake you up."

Harry caught himself thinking of the Slytherin twit again, and berated himself.

"Sure, Ron."

...

"That does it!"

Draco rose from the table. His housemates gave him weird looks, but he didn't care; The weaselette had just walked in, no, _sashayed_ in the Great Hall in a skirt that was incriminatingly short. He suddenly hated Hogsmeade weekends with a passion that burned in the deepest pits of Hell. Not only had Harry not come back to him on his invitation (not that he had viable chances in the first place), the redhead had worn a skirt that was more of a wide belt, and had leaned in to him, and he had _smiled _at her, and...

He stomped down the Gryffindor table, yanked Harry from the shoulder, and turned him around.

"I hate you" he said matter-of-fact-ly, and then left the hall with as much dignity as he could master.

And for about three hours he had truly meant it, but Harry saw him out of Honeydukes', and he had sneezed of all things, and the git had the nerve to throw him a handkerchief!

_"Hey, Malfoy_" just like that. And he felt like little hearts were emanating from all over his body. He was that bad. It was time for some solitary seclusion.

...

"Why are the Slytherins surrounding Malfoy all the time? D'you reckon he's up to something?" Harry looked to where Ron was nodding. A familiar sight greeted him; a bunch of Slytherins in front of Madame Pince's desk. Someone was signing a book out. Malfoy most likely. The only times he ever saw him anymore was when Crabbe, or Goyle, or whoever was sitting next to him in class, would move to write down something, and then he could get a glimpse of Malfoy's head. But Draco never turned to look at him, not even once.

He found that he missed it. A flash of a laughing Draco, when Harry tumbled to the ground while he was doing balancing exercises on his broom, and then his concerned look as the laughter died down and he had ran over to him to check if he was all right. An infuriatingly arrogant Malfoy telling him that he had ordered Crabbe and Goyle to follow him around. His contorted face when he said 'I hate you' as if he was saying something else entirely. Malfoy in his room, telling him he'll refuse the Dark Mark.

And then he let out a breath and relaxed his stomach.

"I've got to go" he said to Ron who begun to protest, but Harry had already left the library.

He caught up with the Slytherins near the school's entrance. Identical looks of disdain met his eyes. He could see a lock of Malfoy's blonde hair.

"Malfoy, a word."

"Go away, Potter. Draco doesn't want to speak to you."

"Yes I do!" said a voice, and Malfoy pushed his way out if the tightly knit circle. "When did I need you to speak for me Parkinson?"

"But Draco, you said that you didn't want to ever get near to that -"

'It's not as if I'm allergic. I just didn't want to catch Gryffindor germs. But seen as I can't avoid it..." he gestured Potter outdoors.

"Draco, what are you talking about? He smirked at Pansy, and followed Potter out.

They sat on the Ravenclaw Quidditch stands, neutral grounds. After a while of uncomfortable silence, and huge effort not to squirm in his seat, Harry let out a breath.

"Okay."

"Okay, what?" Draco asked.

"Okay to what you're trying to do. I give up!"

"Give in, you mean..."

"Give in?"

"To my devastating charm of course. Admit it Potter, it was too much for you."

Harry rolled his eyes, and turned to look at the pitch. Draco snarled soundlessly at him, and turned too.

"I guess I do." Harry said after a while.

Draco rose an eyebrow, and his face was caught between a smirk, and a smile.

_Victory! _he thought and moved closer to Harry.

_The closer I get, you're asking for it.__  
__Take the easy way and give in.__  
__Yeah, and let me in._

The End


End file.
